Bridges to the Heart
by FusseKat
Summary: Part 3 of the Bobby Goren/Hope Thornton OC series. Picking up the story 16 months after "Straight From Your Heart" and "Getting to the Heart of the Matter" also on this site. If you read, how about leaving your thoughts, comment or a review? Thanks!


As always, it's only fair to acknowledge that this is inspired by the characters of Law & Order Criminal Intent, created and "owned" by writers more gifted than I, several producers and a network or two. No infringement with their rights is intended nor implied. This is all just for fun. Hopefully it will be for you.

The events in this story take place sixteen months after the events of "Getting to the Heart of the Matter and "Straight From Your Heart" also posted on this site...

* * *

Bridges to the Heart

**BOBBY AND HOPE**

"Are you sure you don't have it?" Hope shouted from the kitchen. She was kneeling on the floor digging through the toolbox looking for a Phillips screwdriver.

"All I have is the hammer and a wrench." Bobby yelled back as he continued to reach around him, looking under useless instructions and packing material to make sure he was right.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, because it isn't here." She yelled back as she continued to rummage through the toolbox under the sink one more time just to make sure. The last thing she needed was for Bobby to come out here and find the screwdriver right where it belonged. He had proved to be exceptionally good at finding things like her lost car keys, the missing remote and even wayward tools. As grateful as she was at times, she also really hated it. Although she would willingly admit, it was a handy talent to have as a detective with NYPD it was still one that was proving to be more than a little annoying to live with.

Bobby having no more luck than Hope, stopped and scrunched up his face as he tried to recall the last time he remembered using the screwdriver, "Oh… wait. I know, check my desk drawer, top right."

She muttered, "What's it doing…" She didn't bother to finish her question as reached up for the edge of the counter to help her balance as she began to stand. Continuing to mutter, "What's the point of having a tool box if you're going to hide the screwdriver in your desk drawer and not put it back where it belongs…" She knew it wasn't laziness; Bobby was never lazy. The more likely culprit was distraction. Not the distraction of an unorganized mind, but an overactive one. He was really one of the most organized people she'd ever known.

"Which drawer?" She asked as she stood in front of the desk. She was never going to feel comfortable about going through his things. It was like reading someone's journals. She knew that she felt this way, in part, because it was how she would feel if he went through her computer, even though she wasn't hiding anything from him in her computer.

"Top right... I think, but check them all. It has to be in one of them."

Pulling open the drawer, she peered inside. Seeing nothing the resembled the shape of a screwdriver, she started to shift papers around, looking underneath the loose layers of clutter that littered the drawer. She smiled when she remembered this was the one he called his 'junk drawer'. The drawer was more organized than most of her 'regular drawers'. Still not finding it she pulled open the center drawer.

Right in front of her eyes was the screwdriver. "Found it, but HA-HA you were wrong; it was in the center drawer but why it's in here…"

As her fingers wrapped around the handle of the screwdriver, she saw the sheet of notepaper, her notepaper. _Wasn't this the kind of thing she was afraid of finding all along?_ Her heart skipped several beats when she saw the telltale signed of at one time being crumpled into a ball. Reaching for it with trembling fingers she pulled the sheet free, as she glanced guiltily over her shoulder towards the bedroom. She remembered how she'd crumpled up the unread note and thrown it at Bobby's feet.

_Who could have predicted this turn of events? _

_I can feel you pulling away from your life, shrinking away from me. _

"What's taking so long?" Bobby asked as he walked into the living room from the bedroom. "I thought you said you found …" He stopped in his tracks as he saw her head bent down over the sheet of paper she held in her hands. He recognized the page as quickly as she had. Turning away, leaving her what privacy he could without leaving the room. He leaned against the back of the sofa, staring at his shoes as Hope continued to read. _Why had he kept it? Why?_

Finishing the short note, she carefully folded the sheet in half. Looking up, she was startled to see Bobby leaning against the sofa. _How long had he been standing there?_ Hope walked over and joined Bobby, leaning against the sofa next to him. Hope broke the silence several seconds later, "So… I didn't know you still had this, you never said anything."

"I picked it up... I didn't want anyone else to read it, didn't want anyone else to know what was going on. Although I guess it was pretty obvious." Bobby leaned back on his hands and looked over at her, looking for a hint of how she was taking this all in. "Everything worked out without it. I'm not even sure why I kept it."

"Yeah, I guess everything did work out without it." She quietly admitted, still not looking at him. "But still you did keep it. I think I know why."

Bobby sighed, he didn't want to this to effect the day. "Ah… I, I guess I thought I might still need it. Some day."

She nodded silently. After several even more silent moments, she extended the folded sheet of notepaper to him. "Well, here then, I think you should keep this. May I suggest someplace a little safer than lying around loose in your desk drawer." She closed her eyes as she said, "You never know when I might need a reminder."

She leaned over and looked up at him, catching his eye. "You know it wasn't like that, right? How you wrote about it. I mean, ok it was kind of, but only because I couldn't think, I couldn't see any reason why anyone, and maybe especially you would want to become ... entangled with someone with the sort of problems and drama that had appeared out of nowhere. I couldn't believe that…"

He slipped the note into his shirt pocket. "You couldn't believe that someone who was barely able to deal their own - drama - wouldn't cut and run?" She nodded affirmatively. Slowly he reached out for her hand, softly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. The next few minutes passed silently.

Breaking the silence, he leaned down to catch her eye, "By someone with your problems, are you possibly referring to your penchant for buying cheap put-it-together-yourself furniture? Because if I'd known about that then, I might have had second thoughts..."

Looking up to see the teasing twinkle in his eyes, she shook her head. _How does he do this?__ In the middle of all this, he still makes my heart skip a beat._ "What do you mean, 'cheap put-it-together-yourself furniture'?" She scoffed as she pulled away from his grasp. If he could let this go, so could she - for now. "If anything, it's slightly over-priced put-it-together-yourself furniture." Grinning up at him, she directed him to look over at a set of recent acquisitions, "I think they look nice, and they must be easy to put together, because even you were able to do a decent job with the new bookcases." Looking at them again with a critical eye, she reasserted her original premise, "I don't think they look cheap."

When they decided to move into a larger apartment together a few months ago, she had been shocked to discover that combining both his collection of history, psychology and criminal profiling books with her collection of biographies and popular fiction books had exponentially increased the space needed to house the collections. It didn't make sense, although he blamed it on the artistic arrangement she'd insisted on in arranging them. At the time, her defense had been, _"We are not living in a library…"_ But with the additional shelving she will about to concede that all that was missing was an old school card catalog.

Remembering the screwdriver sitting on the desktop she walked over, picked it up and returned to the sofa. Presenting him the recovered screwdriver, she challenged him, "Why don't you go show me just how handy you can be…"

He reached out for her, trapping her within his embrace, "I'll show you how handy I can be."

Laughing at the growl in his voice, she deftly slipped away from his reach, "You were the one who wanted to get the crib put together before we left for the Lewis and Gina's upstate, even though we're not going to need it for months yet." She'd taken to wearing long loose tunics recently, but now she pulled the shirt tight across her mid-section. At four months, she was just beginning to show.

"With the afternoon traffic, it's going to take a couple of hours to get up there and Gina wants everyone there before dinner. Actually she said anytime after three o'clock."

"Fine, fine…" Bobby threw his hands up in surrender. "Go do what you have to do."

"Besides, I promised I'd bring dessert. I need to finish up with the cake and finish packing. Would it be safe for me to assume that you're all packed?"

"Packed? It's only a weekend in the country. What do I need to pack?" He asked teasing her.

When she turned on her heel to face him, he successfully caught her up in his arms and took the kiss she'd escaped earlier. His lips left hers and traveled along her jaw line to nip at her ear, before whispering, "Yes, I'm packed. Are you?"

"Um… huh... Oh, that's ah, that's good." Hope murmured.

"Which, that I'm packed or this?" Bobby asked as he continued to plant kisses on her as his hand fell to caress her abdomen.

"Both…" She felt his lips curl up into a smile. "Then, I guess it's… it's just me that's holding us up."

Pushing away from him, "The only remedy for that is, is ah for you need to leave me alone, so that I can get ready. So, go keep yourself occupied."

Bobby allowed her to turn him around and push him in the direction of the bedroom. "I don't know why you had to bake a cake, it's your birthday."

"That's right, it's my birthday and I can do whatever I want. I want a homemade cake, like my mom used to make. Besides, would you rather eat one I baked or one that Gina baked?"

"I know for a fact that Alex makes a mean Coconut Cake, but if the choice is between your cooking and Gina's - yours, definitely yours." Bobby quickly admitted. They both knew Gina wasn't much of a cook. He had often suspected that was how Lewis had managed to stay so thin all these years.

"That's what I thought..." Hope said as she went into the kitchen to start icing the cake.

Bobby went back to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, quickly scanning the letter he'd written over a year ago. He never would have imagined himself where he was now. Together, happily together; but not married even though he had suggested it several times. Both before and after they knew about the pregnancy, but she always put him off. He was determined that this weekend she wasn't going to be able to put him off any longer.

Bobby walked over to the chair where his duffel bag sat and rummaged around until he found the shoe where he'd stashed the small velvet box. Opening it, he felt reassured when he saw the diamonds sparkling back at him. Returning the box to the shoe, he zipped the bag closed.

Leaning down he picked up the screwdriver and sat down on the floor. He picked up the previously discarded directions and glanced through them. Shaking his head, he threw them aside again and set about to figuring out how to attach the end panel of the crib to the side rails.

* * *

**ALEX AND MALCOLM**

FBI agent, Malcolm Reynolds grimaced as he reached for the ringing cell phone. Reading the name that appeared on the caller ID, his mood changed ... for the better.

"Hello, Detective Eames." He was looking forward to the long weekend they had planned.

Alex could hear the smile and affection in his voice. "Good morning, Agent Reynolds. I thought I'd call and see if you were about ready to go."

After the arrest of both Sir Nigel Whitledge and his driver Paul Harris, both had taken the opportunity to keep the other updated as new information became available. It started out with a couple of phone calls, then a drink after work, the occasional dinner and then finally one date followed by another until they were seeing each other whenever their schedules allowed and that had been going on for almost a year now.

"Well, I'm downtown at the office but I'm only going to need to..."

"Did you get called in?" Alex asked, before rushing on, giving Malcolm no time to reply. "If you can't make it, I understand. And so will everyone else. Is it a new case?"

"Alex, slow down." She tried to make things so easy for him. She never asked anything of him, no demands, no guilt. She also never asked him for anything. Her strong independence and self-reliance sometimes had him questioning why she continued to see him.

"I didn't get called in and there isn't a new case. Maxwell finished his incident report on the Dillon case, I needed to review and sign off on it before he submitted our two reports to the Bureau Chief on Monday."

"Oh..."

"I'm only going to need another fifteen minutes or so..." Malcolm saw movement from the corner of his eye and looked up. Seeing his partner, he motioned him into the office to sit down. "Speak of the devil, he just came in, Alex..."

"Hi Alex," Agent Jason Maxwell shouted as he settled into the chair beside his partner's desk. "Would you hurry up, get down here and drag this guy outta here before the weekend is over..."

Alex laughed, "Tell Jason I'm on my way. I should be there in about half an hour."

"Okay, I'll let him know. I'm going to call down to the garage and arrange a parking pass for you. So just pull into the garage when you get here. You can leave your car in the garage for the weekend and we'll take my car up..."

"Your car, my car, I don't care. But I drive."

"Yeah, so I've noticed." Always the one in control, he thought. "I'll see you in a few minutes..." He discovered he was talking to dead air. Alex had already hung up. "Yeah, right, bye." He shook his head as he stared at his phone.

"Not much for long good-byes, is she?" Jason Maxwell watched his partner and knew the female detective had really gotten to him. He'd known that for a long time, but it was always a surprise to see it. He wondered if his partner knew it.

"So, be sure and give Hope my best. Goren and the others too." Max said as he continued to watch his partner stare at his phone.

"Uh, yeah. Of course, your best." Malcolm absently replied, rousing himself, he added, "It's too bad you and Jenny can't make it."

"Well, someone has to stay around and keep the world safe for democracy." Jason said as he glanced at the note in his hand. "I don't know if I should tell..."

Malcolm nodded at the note and said, "Tell me."

"But since you're going to be with Hope Thornton this weekend…" He hesitated before rushing through it. "It's an email from MI5, a heads up from Danforth-Hayes. It seems that after more than a year the British Government has made a deal with Whitledge. It's all being swept under the rug. There's not going to be trial, or any public acknowledgment. The Queen's government has opted to save face here. The official explanation will look like an extension of the one they've been using so far. After these long months of 'voluntary commitment and treatment' for a severe nervous breakdown - brought on by the stress of his son's murder and his wife's death – Sir Nigel has now decided to withdraw from public life and retire to a small fishing village on the eastern coast of England." Whitledge is going to be relocated and placed on monitored house arrest for his, quote 'full and complete cooperation and disclosure of all his activities and contacts' unquote."

"Any idea when this is going to make the news?" Malcolm asked. He walked back to his desk and sank back onto the chair. Reaching for his keys, he unlocked the top drawer and pulled out his service pistol and slipped it into his shoulder holster.

"Danforth-Hayes thinks there will be an official announcement after the weekend but..."

"Yeah, but he couldn't guarantee it wouldn't be sooner." Malcolm stood and walked over to look down at the street fourteen stories below. Shaking his head in disgust he added, "Is this mess ever going to end for her?"

Maxwell knew better than try to answer. "Danforth-Hayes says there is also going to be a sizable monetary settlement for Hope Thornton."

"They're going to buy her silence." Shaking his head at their stupidity he continued, "That's hardly necessary. I don't think anyone could induce her to talk about any of it."

Malcolm looked down at the report in front of him and closed the folder. "Well, at least our reports on the Dillon case support each other. At least we don't have to worry about trying to keep our story straight." He slid the folder across the desk as he stood.

"It's easy when you tell the truth." Maxwell looked up at his partner, and waved the email as he asked, "You plan on telling Hope about this?"

Malcolm shook his head, "Not if I can help it. I may try to feel Goren out, see how he thinks she should be told. But man, I don't want it to be me." He looked at his watch before saying, "I should get downstairs; Alex will be here any minute."

Pushing himself up, Jason exhaled heavily. "Yep, you have a good weekend. Don't worry about anything here."

"Call me if you hear anything about Whitledge or..."

"Yep, you got it."

As Alex's vision adjusted to the lower light in the parking garage at One Federal Plaza, she saw Malcolm leaning against the side of his car. Pulling up next to him, she rolled down the window and shouted. "Why don't we just take my car?"

A huge knowing grin crossed his face. He knew she was going to suggest that. He had already pulled his small bag from his trunk while he waited for her. Leaning down to pick up the bag, he heard her release the trunk latch.

As he got into the car, he leaned over and kissed her. Reaching for the shifter, he moved the lever into 'park' and pulled her closer. Alex responded and reached out for him.

"Hmmm I missed you..." Malcolm muttered.

"It's only been a couple of days..."

"Then I guess it's true, absence makes the heart grow fonder." Malcolm stared into her deep-set eyes until she began to fidget under his gaze. Settling back into his seat, he waved for her to proceed.

"Driver, wake me when we get there." With that, he leaned back, crossed his arms and closed his eyes.

"You wish..." Alex glanced over at him in the dim light. "I'm only getting us out of the city, and then you'll be taking over the driving."

Malcolm opened one eye and caught her stare, "Ri-ight, I'll believe that when I see it. You can wake me then."

He heard Alex's laugh and fought the urge to open his eyes again when he heard her put the car in gear and slowly drive out of the garage. Waiting in the driveway exit for a break in traffic, he felt her gun it and peal out into traffic, laying down a layer of rubber. Now it was his turn to laugh as he settled deeper back into his seat.

They had been driving for a while and were out of the city before Alex spoke again, "Did you get Hope a gift?"

The sound of her voice caused Malcolm to jump. He really had kind of dozed off, but not so deeply he didn't hear or understand her question. Stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders he turned to face her before answering, "Yes I did. Of course I did. It's a birthday party, it's customary."

She waited for him to elaborate and when he didn't, she asked him pointedly, "Well? What did you get her?"

He knew she'd been waiting for more, "I only answer the question asked, don't volunteer anything, Counter-Interrogation 101. But I got her a book."

"A book? I see you went all out. That's a safe gift. What kind of book?"

Amused, he replied. "She's not my girlfriend. I don't have to go all out on a gift. But if you must know, it's a collection poems from the Romantic period - Bronte, Dickinson, Browning. From what you've told me about the letters she wrote Bobby, it seems like something she'd like."

Grudgingly she admitted, "You're right, it sounds perfect for her. I'm sure she'll enjoy it." She was a little surprised he even remembered her telling him about the letters.

Hearing the tone in her voice, he cautiously asked, "Why what did you get her?"

"I couldn't think of anything, I just kept putting off going to look and... well, I just got her a gift card. Okay?"

"It's okay by me. I don't care." He was a little surprised to hear the defensive note in her voice. He still didn't know Hope well, but he knew she would just be happy to have Alex at her party. Maybe it was a response to recent events, but she didn't appear to be very materialistic. "Well, I'm sure she likes to shop. You like to shop. You can make it a girls' day out and buy her lunch sometime. She'll like that too."

"I guess, it's just not as thoughtful... certainly not as thoughtful as yours. You put a lot of thought into what to get her, you did well." She thought back to the taser that her late husband had given her as an anniversary gift one year.

Malcolm's voice broke through her thoughts, "It isn't a contest, Alex." He continued, "Do you know what Bobby got her?"

"He bought her earrings, diamond studs. They're very nice. He did a good job too."

She was getting too serious and he really had wanted to keep this a nice light and fun weekend, "That just goes to prove what a good job you've done training us." He teased.

She looked over at him and grinned. "Well, if you're so well trained, let's see how well trained you were by Quantico at driving."

Straightening up, he clapped his hands together, and shouted, "All right! It's about time. I was a prodigy at Quantico. They even thought I might have made the wrong career choice, said I showed great promise as a NASCAR driver." He grinned at her when she just rolled her eyes at him. "Now we'll start making good time. Pull over... where to pull over? There, on the left, that gas station. I'll even buy you a soda, if you want."

"Between Lewis, Bobby and you, I don't know who's the worst."

They exchanged a look, nodded and both shouted out, "Lewis!" as they broke out laughing.

Alex glanced across to him and said, "If you really wanted to drive you should have said something."

"It's not that I wanted to drive, it's that you didn't want me to drive."

"It isn't that I didn't want you to drive; it's just that I ..."

"It's just that you prefer to drive, I get that. It doesn't bother me; I guess I'm a lot like Goren in that respect. You like to be in control, being the driver gives you control, to be in charge. It sometimes amazes me that you and Bobby make such a good team in that way, him being such a car guy and all. You'd think it would drive him a little crazy." Maybe there's a clue to Goren's unorthodox investigative style.

"You're not like Bobby at all." The first part came out a little sharper than she'd intended. Softening her voice, she continued, "As for me always driving, well, it... it just worked out that way in the beginning and ..."

He noticed the change in tone and looked at her quizzically, "And he didn't challenge you on it." He realized he'd gone too far as soon as the words were spoken.

Alex whipped her head around to stare at him, the teasing tone gone from her voice, "Hey... don't. I'm really not interested in your profiling abilities, it's enough that I have to put up with it with Gor...." She didn't finish her sentence, but turned back to face the road.

"Alex, I'm sorry. I was just joking. I didn't mean anything by it." When she didn't reply he slouched back into his seat, hoping this wasn't the start of a very long weekend.

As she drove past the gas station, she continued to stare out at the road ahead of her. _"A lot like Goren…" _Where had he come up with that one? Malcolm Reynolds wasn't anything like Bobby. Was he?

* * *

**GINA AND LEWIS**

Gina looked out the kitchen window and watched as Lewis poured in a bag of the new hardwood briquettes that he'd wanted to try out in the grill. They'd both been reluctant to come up here since Hope had confronted Sir Nigel Whitledge and that the traumatic shootout between Sir Nigel Whitledge and the FBI. Hope seemed to have been able to put the incidence behind her. It had even been her suggestion to hold her birthday get-together up here. So, up here is where they were going to celebrate.

She turned away from the kitchen window, walked over to the refrigerator, and pulled out a beer. Twisting the cap off, she walked through the French-doors, "Are the heaters ready to go?" Gina asked as she joined Lewis out on the stone patio and handed him the beer.

Even though it was late fall, Gina had decided they should grill steaks and eat outside tonight. Lewis had brought up three outdoor portable heaters when he drove up this morning. "And how about the grill, is that ready?"

"Everything's ready out here. Heaters are tested and primed. The grill is set and ready to go. I'm ready to get the coals going as soon as everyone gets here." Lewis said after taking a drink of the beer Gina handed him. "You need any help getting things ready inside?"

"No, everything is finished, finally. Everything has been dusted, shined and polished, fresh linens on the beds, clean towels for everyone. The wine is chilling or breathing, beer mugs chilling and icing up nicely. All the food you picked up - thank you, by the way - is ready to serve, just a quick pop in the microwave to warm up before we eat. I have to say, I'm glad I came up yesterday to start getting the place ready. There was a lot to do. We haven't used the place much in the last year."

Lewis dropped his arm across her shoulders, rubbed her arm, and joined her in looking out over the field beyond the patio. Lewis finally broke the silence by asking, "So how much time do we have before everyone starts to get here?"

"I told everyone any time after 3:00, but it will probably be later. I wasn't sure how long it was going to take to get everything set up."

Lewis looked down at his watch. "Well, it's only 2 o'clock. I'm going to bring in some wood and build a fire. You think I should light it now or wait."

"Oh, that's a good idea," Gina said as she took the beer bottle from Lewis and took a drink from it. "Why don't you light it now. It'll make everything cheery and homey when the others get here."

"After that, I think I'll go take a shower. Wann'a join me?"

Taking another swig from the beer, Gina grimaced then shrugged her shoulders, "Sure, why not?" Standing she handed the bottle back to Lewis and as she walked away, adding a little extra sway to her hips. Hearing Lewis laugh, she smiled contentedly, knowing he was watching.

After she walked inside, she turned to see Lewis still laughing and shaking his head as he rounded the corner of the house, to get logs set on the far side of their lot.

_I still got it_, she thought as she stepped out of her shoes, the beginning of a trail for Lewis to follow....

* * *

More to follow....


End file.
